About Earth's Fury: Our Last Thanksgiving:
WHEN THE SUN FLARES -- EARTH’S MANTLE HICCUPS -- SOCIETY SUFFERS
Rob Bell is financially screwed, although his wife doesn’t know it yet. His only hope is to sell a house that he’s constructed near to the beach. With one day to go to the sale, his, and everyone else’s world comes crashing down. Severe movement in the Earth’s tectonic plates caused by sun flares discharging positive charged particles into the mantle, go on to create a disaster that scientists failed to predict in its enormity. EMPs destroy the grid. Ash from volcanos darken the land. Floods divide the nation, with new mountain ranges created. The USA will never be the same again, changed forever.
Their home in a gated community is high in the hills of Santa Monica, overlooking the Pacific. They decide to stay put. Survival is the new game, money no longer an issue as death casts its shadow over the World and their community.
As their food supplies run low, and constantly under attack from outsiders, Brogan the head of their community security creates a mini fiefdom, with Rob’s wife in charge of rations. Under attack, and falling foul of Brogan, and with death stalking him, Rob knows the only way out is for them to travel to his dad’s bunker. Trouble is, io get there is a thousand-mile journey fraught with danger and his wife doesn’t want to go. Fiercely loyal, he will have to decide if he should leave or to stay.
His life and others will depend on the outcome
Excerpt:
Coming to a decision after the cop car had disappeared, I drove on. It soon became clear I’d made a mistake. The light was fading, made worse by black smoke billowing, drifting across the road from buildings ablaze, the fumes hitting the back of my throat. My foot was pressed hard to the gas pedal until I reached an intersection where I stopped with a jolt and the screech of Old Girl’s brakes. A young woman banged on my hood as I almost hit her, and she dropped a flatscreen she’d been carrying.
People were running across the intersection in front of me, blocking my exit. I looked across at a supermarket in disbelief. It looked as though a colony of ants had chosen it as a food source. What seemed like an endless chain of looters scurried around in the parking lot. People were running away with their loot in their arms, others stuffing their ill-gotten gains into vehicles. A police vehicle in the parking lot with all its doors open was ablaze, then it exploded. As the flash from the explosion cleared, some of those passing close by writhed on the ground, hit by shrapnel. One of them ran around in circles then dropped to the ground, his arm severed, spouting blood, with the debris from the explosion flying in all directions.
An old woman ran out onto the road in front of me. She was pushing a cart piled high with what looked like cigarette cartons. Shots rang out. The woman’s arms flailed, her scalp bursting like an overripe melon. Her blood spattered my windshield, then she dropped out of sight. The next thing I knew, someone yanked open my door and stuck a gun at my head, then they dragged me out through the door. With the momentum of him swinging me by my arm, I landed on the sidewalk and banged my head, almost losing consciousness. I expected to be shot. This had to be the end of my existence, I thought. Squeezing my eyes closed tight, my entire body quaked. Nothing happened.
Cracking open an eye, but playing possum, I could see a gang of armed youths. They were too busy loading the cigarette cartons from the woman’s cart into the back of Old Girl to worry about me. Gun fire erupted. It was clear what they were doing, when I followed their line of fire and more shots rang out, their rifle barrels spitting flames. Two more looters dropped to the ground. The gang relieved them of their goods and tossed them into the back of Old Girl.
Without warning, my vision blurred as the ground shook with vengeance. The aftershock was if anything more intense than the first quake. Everything in my vision shimmered. To my left, three or four-story apartment buildings swayed like they were constructed of rubber, then collapsed as if someone had set explosives under them. A blast of dust rolled over me.
Amazon
About The Prepper's Son Trilogy:
About Declan Conner:
Declan Conner lives something of a nomadic life, travelling and living between Portugal, the UK, and Brazil. Having written thrillers over the past ten years, he became fascinated with the political upheaval and divisions in the US. Not one to shirk from controversy, an alternative society along political ideological, religious, territorial, and racial lines began to ferment. Having taken a two-year sabbatical from writing, with the story he wanted to write buzzing around in his head, the pandemic lockdown spurred on the kernel of his idea of the new trilogy, until he felt compelled to start writing once more. After extensively reading books in the genre, research, and outlining, he put his fingers to the keyboard. To describe the trilogy in a nutshell, he fashioned each book in the disaster trilogy along the lines of - The Destruction -The Division - and the Rebirth of society and governance in the US. All of this is through the eyes of Rob Bell, a prepper’s son, and other major characters, with each book crafted as a thriller. Just now the e-books are available on preorder, with the print books ready and waiting for the e-books going live.
No comments:
Post a Comment